The Best Defense is a Preemptive Offense
by Ashynarr
Summary: Because the best way to protect your vital regions is your twin's flag on your ass. Oneshot, sort of prequel to 'Is It Love' bunny from BFYA.


The Best Defense is a Preemptive Offense (Hetalia)

Author: Ashynarr

Summary: Because the best way to protect your vital regions is your twin's flag on your ass.

Disclaimer: Hetalia's not mine.

Warning: Oneshot, Crack, Bros being Bros, France and Prussia

((This somehow became a Prequel to 'Is it Love?', and I find that absolutely hilarious.))

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It was a hot summer day at the World Summit. Most of the Nations had taken off their jackets or coats in a desperate bid to ward off some of the heat (Russia being the noted exemption, seeing as how he wore his coat no matter the temperature). America was using his folder as a fan, beads of sweat rolling down his face and arms.

"Man, why'd we have to get the broken room?" He complained to no one in general. "Germany, dude, can we please go somewhere where we won't melt? Like the North Pole or something?"

Many of the other Nations grumbled in agreement, for once united in purpose, even if it was against the host Nation's insistence in staying in this meeting room despite the fact that the air conditioner was broken. He simply replied that if it wasn't working in the room, it wasn't working in the building, and did they really want to go outside to find someplace else?

Afterwords, the complaints had mostly died down, although they were still finding it hard to focus because of the steadily increasing mugginess of the room. Finally, after five minutes of no one speaking because of being lost in their own little (and much cooler) worlds, America snapped. "I don't care anymore, I'm too fucking hot."

With that, he first pulled off his shirt, showing a surprisingly well-toned body (even though there were small hints of flab around his belly). Next came his shoes and socks, to be quickly followed by the pants, much to the surprise and pleasure of France and several other Nations. Sighing in relief, he flopped back into his chair, wearing nothing but his eagle-print boxers.

Besides him, Canada groaned. "Alfred, put your clothes back on! We're in the middle of a meeting!" Several Nations were staring unabashedly at the superpower, either out of jealousy or lust. Japan and Hungary were furiously doodling in their notebooks, and France...

Well, he'd somehow crossed the room and stripped to his rose in a few seconds, the missing clothes nowhere to be found. "_Bonjour_, Alfred... you are looking wonderful today!"

Both twins scowled in unison. "If this is your way of trying to claim my ass, it isn't gonna work. Go bug Arthur or something – I think he might need some help getting his clothes off."

Several other Nations had started following America's example, and the relief on their faces was obvious. The two Nations drawing were apparently having a field day, if their pleased expressions were anything to go by. However, Germany was determined not to do so (although his shirt had somehow vanished), and England was pretending the others weren't foregoing dignity for comfort.

France's eyes glinted, and he contemplatively glanced at his mortal frenemy. "Why, I do believe you're right. He obviously needs my assistance. We will speak later, _oui_?"

"Sure, whatever dude." America said, waving him off.

With a wink at the superpower, he made his way over to the island Nation, who had spotted him and was now trying desperately to escape. Canada turned back to his brother, a light smile on his lips. "Did you really have to do that, Al?"

"Hey, it's my ass or his, and I like mine too much to let Francis claim it." The southern twin pointed out.

Canada hummed in agreement, his eyes wandering around the room again as things descended further out of control. One or two female Nations had stripped down to their shirts and underwear, much to the pleasure of the male Nations in the room.

His attention quickly refocused when he felt his shirt start to get pulled up, and he slapped his twin's hand away. "No, I am not stripping."

"But you've got to be roasting in that!" America complained as he tried again to pull the shirt over his brother's head. "C'mon, everyone else is doing it!"

Both were now standing as they struggled against each other, and most of the room was now watching the show, amused. The superpower crowed in victory when he finally managed to get the shirt off, and Canada attempted to use the moment to escape. However, he tripped over his overturned chair, and fell to the floor.

America used this as an opportunity to pull his twin's shoes, socks, and pants off, even as the other tried to prevent it. Once the pants were off, Canada was left mortified and only in his maple-leaf boxers. "What the hell, Al? Give me my clothes back now!"

"Nope!" The superpower chirped, taking the clothes he'd won and tossing them across the room.

The action ticked off the northern twin, who stood up so that he was face-to-face with his brother. "I am not spending the rest of the meeting in my boxers, you ass!"

Laughter. "Whatcha gonna do about it, bro? They're over by Francis, and do you really wanna go past him just to get your stuff back?"

That was a good point. "I can just go the long way around the table!"

"Nope, Ivan's there, and you know how tempted he'd get if you went past him."

Damn. "Maybe-"

"Do you really want to crawl under the tables?"

Well, fuck. Canada knew when he had lost, but he wasn't going to give his brother the satisfaction of knowing that. "Why don't I make you go and get them, then?"

America grinned, opening his mouth to retort, but his face quickly morphed into shock as a hand groped his ass. He twirled around to see Prussia there, grinning wickedly. "Why, Alfie..." The ex-Nation chuckled. "Do you want to share something with us? Like why you have your brother's flag on your ass?"

Every set of eyes on the room instantly focused on him, all conversation stopping dead. Even Japan and Hungary had stopped, their eyes boring into America. He chuckled nervously. "Well, ya see..."

"Oh my, Matthieu! Whatever would possess you to put your brother's hideous flag on that lovely _derriere_?"

The focus of the room shifted to the other twin, whose boxers had been partially pulled down to fully reveal the American flag on it. Said Nation was blushing furiously as he tried to get away. "Francis, please, it's not like it's a big deal, right?"

The looks from the rest of the Nations said otherwise. America sighed, sharing a glance with his brother. "Well, it's a funny story... y'see, we were really drunk, and I mean like Artie levels of drunk here. Anyway, we were talking about how you guys are always trying to get into our pants, and I don't know when it came up, but Matt said that if we just got some sort of 'Hands Off' sign, you guys would stop."

"This idiot was the one who got the idea for tattoos, and the next thing either of us know, we're waking up with massive hangovers and a literal pain on our asses. What first clued us in was when I turned around and he-" Canada pointed his thumb at his twin. "-started laughing his ass off. That when when I found out about our little side-trip from the bar, and about the tattoos."

He grinned. "Of course, once he found out he had one of my flag, he did a one-eighty and started complaining about it and how we should get them removed. Neither of us did, though, because we realized that we could use them as a personal defense against the rest of you, because you can't claim an ass that's already claimed, right?"

Hungary had fainted at some point, and Japan was furiously erasing and redrawing what was probably a picture of the two of them sans clothing and with small flag tats. Everyone else was trying to get a look at them, commenting on the whole strange situation.

The meeting ended a few minutes later, and all the Nations reluctantly tugged their clothing back on and trudged out of the room, sending thoughtful glances in the twins' direction. When the two were the last ones in the room, both broke out into laughter.

"D-did you see Artie's face?" the southern Nation choked out between bursts of laughter. "I swear he was about to explode or faint, maybe both."

"Pfft, that's nothing. We made _Hungary_ faint, and Kiku is probably going crazy with his sketchbook right now."

"And the rest of them! Oh my god their faces were all 'Wait, what? What do you mean they're taken?' Oh man, now they're all probably thinking we're together or something!"

Both stopped laughing at that, contemplating that last thought.

"You know..." Canada started. "We could go through with it."

"With what?"

"The whole 'dating' thing, except without the making out or the sex. We just do enough to make them think we're together, and that any flings we have are just trying to release steam after a fight or something."

America thought it over. The long he thought, the more appealing it sounded. "That's not really any different from what we already do, right? We just hold hands a bit more often like we did as kids, and make our hanging out a bit more visible. But..." he bit his lip. "They might see through it. If it's obvious we aren't doing couple-y things, they might realize we're pulling their legs."

Canada grinned. "Well, you know how Gilbert keeps barging into our houses? Why don't we... give him a show?" He stepped closer. "If we can convince him, everyone else will buy into it no matter what we do. And then..." He pulled his brother closer so they were nose to nose. "The mind-fucking really begins."

America's grin matched his brothers. "Have I mentioned lately how much I love having you as my brother?"

"It's nice to hear- hey!" The southern Nation had slapped his brother's ass and was now running out the door laughing. Realizing what his brother was thinking, Canada laughed as well.

"Get back here, you jerk!" He yelled, grinning as he chased after his twin, brushing past several other Nations. "Your ass is mine!"

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AN: This... well, my friends on the forum were asking about my plans for the Twincest bunny, and I was answering questions, when Onion asked whether one getting a tattoo would make it show up on the other in the same place.

Somehow that evolved into talking about tramp stamps and how _obviously_ the twins would have each other's flags on their asses as a sort of protection from wandering hands – after all, the other Nations can't claim them if they're already claimed, right? (And maybe they were a little bit drunk when they got them.)

...I have no regrets. (Although the twins might.) And this isn't AmeCan (although I guess you can see it that way), but just bros looking out for each other. (And I think this evolved into a prequel for the Bunny 'Is It Love?', which would make that bunny ten thousand times funnier. Go reread it, and you'll see what I mean.)


End file.
